Defending Draco
by Diatha
Summary: Prequel to An Odd Proposal 'You showed me more kindness that morning than I have ever known from one person. I know I didn’t deserve it, not from you.” He was breathing raggedly. He looked in her eyes pleadingly. Forgive me, Hermione.' DHR
1. Meeting with the Captive

She walked down the Ministry corridor, head held high despite the whispers from the other occupants. Her destination was Interrogation Room 3. She had volunteered for this, and, regardless of any misgivings, she couldn't very well change her mind at this juncture. Not one other person had wanted the job. No one wanted to defend him in fear that they themselves would appear guilty. Everyone had the right to be defended in trial; he was no different. While she wasn't, by profession, a Defender, she liked to think of herself more than capable of taking on the task. Plus, there wasn't much chance that anyone would suspect Hermione Granger of being an accomplice to Draco Malfoy.

_This is going to be tough, Hermione. Just remain composed and cool-headed and you'll make it through this._

She stopped as it was clear that she had reached her destination. Standing outside were two guards and they nodded slightly in way of greeting. She took a deep breath and glanced through the small window of the door, and was shocked at the sight before her. There sitting at the table was not the man she once knew as Draco Malfoy. She was suddenly reminded of Sirius. The long unwashed hair hanging like lengths of yarn, tattered, over-large clothing on a malnourished body, and that face…the face of someone who had seen the hells of Azkaban. His head was lowered and his hands were bound behind the chair in which he was sitting. _I'm going to be the last person in the world he wishes to see_, she thought.

One of the guards cleared his throat. She looked over to him and nodded. She stepped back as he opened the door for her. She stepped into the room and looked at its prisoner. Grey eyes stared at her through a mass of filthy, brownish hair. _Oh, goodness, he looked angry at the world._

"Did you lose your way, Mudblood?" His voice sounded gruff as though it hadn't been used for some time.

She ignored the insult and went to the side hutch to pour two glasses of water. Walking back to the table, she set one in front of him. "No, Draco. I've volunteered to defend you at the trial." _That wasn't so hard, was it? _Now, if she could continue on in this manner, she'd be fine.

A growl erupted in his throat. She winced slightly. "Perfect. Just perfect. Come to insure I get the Kiss, Granger?" He paused. Then, "I don't believe I gave you permission to use my given name."

She made sure not to drop her mask of composure. She couldn't show weakness or he'd eat her alive. She had come here to do a job and she planned to succeed. "I figured we were two mature adults, and could address each other as such."

"Speak for yourself!" he sneered. Then quickly looked away when he realized what that implied.

Smiling to herself, she decided to ignore his slip. "Getting back to business, I'd like to explain why I'm here." Taking a steadying breath, she continued, "Not one other person came forward to defend you because they were cowards—they were afraid that they would be linked to you in some way and punished accordingly. Not many people are brave enough to defend a suspected killer, especially if the man on trial is you. Everyone deserves to be defended…especially against crimes they didn't commit." _And now his reaction. Will he believe me?_

It seemed he was struck speechless because he didn't say anything for several minutes. "You're not very funny, Granger. You've played your joke and now you can leave."

"This isn't a joke. I truly believe you're innocent, otherwise I wouldn't have wasted my time." He remained silent, but his penetrating stare was disconcerting her. "May I sit?"

Without looking away from her, he nodded briefly. _Be thankful for small victories, Hermione._

She sat in the chair across from him and set her bag down on the floor. "Are you thirsty? Would you like me to unbind your hands so you can have some water?"

"I don't need your pity, Granger." _Argh._

"I was attempting to be kind. Forgive me, it won't happen again." She reached down to pull her scroll of notes from her bag. "I've made some preliminary notes for the case. Here I have documented eye-witnesses that can attest to your whereabouts during the murder. It took some time but I finally managed to convince them to testify on your behalf. I have also written theories that could prove you're innocent without the need of testimony. We'll see how it goes, but I feel confident that, once the Ministry hears the information I've compiled, they will have no choice but to let you go free." _I've worked hard on this, Malfoy, so choose your words wisely._

"You're serious, then? You really mean to defend me…" he looked baffled. She nodded in confirmation. "But you hate me…"

"I don't hate you, Draco. I don't especially like you or approve of things that you've done, but I've never really hated you. 'Hate' is such a strong term, and I doubt I've ever felt that strongly towards you," she explained._ I sometimes wish I could you hate you, though. _

This seemed to surprise him. "What then would you call years of shared animosity," he asked skeptically.

She rolled her eyes. _ Let's get this out of the way_. "Well, first of all, had I not been friends with Ron or Harry, you would have never noticed my existence. Let's face it. Harry Potter turned away your friendship when you offered it, and he had the attention you craved. Ron Weasley, whom you considered inferior, managed to secure Harry's friendship when you couldn't. Of course, you were resentful. You were 11 and obviously not used to being denied something you wanted. Because I was their friend, you immediately disliked me as well. Being muggle-born just added fuel to the fire. You didn't bother me much while I was alone, only when I was with either Ron or Harry. School bullies are not unusual. I think now it's just out of habit that you boys continue to snipe at each other."

Sometime in the middle of her speech, he had turned away to gaze over her shoulder. She was surprised when he didn't sneer at her in disgust.

Clearing her throat, she returned to business. "Did you have anyone in mind that you think should be called as a character witness? I only know a few of your friends from school, but it's been years since then."

He slowly shook his head as if to clear it before looking her in the eye. "I suppose you can call Crabbe or Goyle as a witness. Whatever you think is best." _This isn't going bad at all. Besides being a mean-tempered, petty bully, he really isn't so bad._ She allowed herself a small smile at that.

While making more notes on her scroll, she thought about the two buffoons suggested. _If they only had a brain_, she sung to herself.

Malfoy choked. She looked up alarmed. His face was twitching as though he was keeping himself from laughing…_or, in his case, yelling_. She reddened slightly. She must have said that last bit out loud.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have insulted your friends," she said, looking embarrassed. _One step forward, two steps back. Great job, Hermione._

He opened his mouth to reply and she braced herself for an argument. "I'll take that drink of water now, Granger."

She smiled slightly at him. With a wave of her wand, she released his right hand. She looked away pretending to inspect her notes while he grasped the glass and drank from it greedily.

He set the glass aside pulling himself upright. He moved his hair from his face and placed his hand on the table in front of him. _He looks as we're doing nothing more than having afternoon tea_.

Remembering she had brought him a gift, she reached into her bag. "For the trial, I thought you might want these," she said as she pulled out a fresh set of robes.

He just stared at the robes she had set on the table in front of him. _Has no one ever done anything nice for him that he doesn't know how to properly react?_

She felt herself softening a bit towards him. _Just a bit, though. He's still a bastard. _Calling people names may not be very kind, but it was very satisfying.

"These are my robes. Where did you get these?" he asked quietly.

"Oh, I have connections. Would you believe I am friends with a former house elf of yours?" She smiled. "I asked him to retrieve the nice black ones you always seem to wear. I assume they're your favorite."

He smirked. _Ah, there's the Malfoy I know._ "Now, Granger, that was very considerate. One might think you actually care for me. What ever would Potter and Weasley say were they to find out about your little crush."

She refused to let herself blush. "I just thought you would appreciate clean robes after having stewed in filth for the past two and a half weeks. I can always take them back. You can stand in a room full of your peers in tattered rags; it makes little difference to me."

"Calm down. Learn how to take a joke." Then he scrunched up his nose. He mumbled something under his breath.

"I'm sorry—I didn't quite catch that last bit," _surely he hadn't said what she thought she heard._

"I said thank you!" he yelled. Then softer, "Just don't take them back."

She smiled at him in earnest. "Well, you're welcome." _There's hope for you yet, Draco Malfoy._

She looked at the clock on the wall which still pointed at 'Trial Prep'. Estimating that they still had a couple of hours until they needed to stand before the Ministry, she went about preparing Malfoy. She lectured him on proper decorum for during and after the trial. He had impeccable manners; he just needed to learn to control his inner snob.

After what seemed a short amount of time, one of the guards entered the room to inform her that it was time. She looked at Malfoy, who appeared slightly apprehensive. His usual aloof expression abandoned him at the thought that he could possibly return to his small cell at Azkaban. _I'll try not to let you down._

_I hope I can pull this off, _she thought.


	2. Events of October 24th

The guard at the door had just informed her that it was time for the trial. She glanced at Malfoy. _Should she ask? Or just do it?_

He wasn't going to like the decision being made for him, but he certainly wasn't going to accept the offer. He would want this—he just wouldn't ask for it.

Quickly retrieving her bag, careful not to make eye contact, she pulled out a brush along with some cologne. With a muttered, "You have ten minutes," she went to the door. She hurriedly whispered the spell and shut the door behind her. Standing just on the other side, she allowed herself to blush.

The spell she had used was a cleaning spell. Had she stayed to look, she would have seen a squeaky clean Draco Malfoy. The brownish hair would have been restored to its pale blond and the weeks of ingrained dirt and filth would have been cleared away to reveal his equally pale skin. She wasn't blushing because she had done something nice for him, more like she was embarrassed because of her cowardice. _Gryffindor owled; they want their Head Girl badge back_.

She heard a knock on the door behind her indicating he was ready. She opened it and there before her stood what looked to be a completely different person from the one moments ago. It was as if the past weeks had never been.

She began walking to the courtroom at a brisk pace, and he fell in step beside her. "Great, so here's the plan. I'm going to question you first before the other witnesses have a chance to enter, and—"

"Yes, Granger, you've already lectured me on the trial," he interrupted. He was eyeing her bag with a raised brow. "What else have you got in there?"

"Well, I always try to be prepared, so it's whatever I think I may need. It's a Carry All. It's charmed to be virtually bottomless, not to mention weightless. I like to think of it as my little bag of tricks." She was babbling, but she couldn't seem to stop. Luckily, she was saved when they reached the double doors to the courtroom. "I need to rebind your hands," looking at him apologetically.

He said nothing as he held out his arms; he kept his eyes on the double doors. He straightened to his full height and brushed a lock of hair away from his face. "Ok, Granger, let's see how smart you really are." _So, no pressure, then?_

The doors opened inward and a guard stepped forward to escort Draco to the middle of the room which held a platform where the defendant was to stand facing the Wizengamot. Its placement made it all the better to be looked upon and judged by the rows and rows of Ministry officials.

She walked briskly to the trial secretary to submit her witness list before moving before the Wizengamot. "Good afternoon. I'd first like to thank you for granting my petition to defend Draco Malfoy. I assure you, I have taken this all very seriously."

Ex-Minister Fudge spoke up then. "I hope so, Miss Granger. If I feel otherwise, be sure that I will call an end to this hearing immediately. I will not have a mockery made of this court." _Ah, Minister Fudge, still drunk with self-importance, I see. _"For the record, Draco Malfoy, you are being charged with the October 24th murder of Lucius Malfoy. This criminal hearing has been called by the Wizengamot to determine guilt. If you are found guilty of this crime, you will be remanded into custody to await sentencing in Azkaban. Do you understand all that I've told you?"

Draco gave a brief nod.

"You may proceed, Miss Granger."

She took a breath. _Let the games begin._

"I'd first like to question my client," she began. She turned to face Draco. "Do you agree to relate the facts of the night in question to the best of your ability?" He nodded curtly. "Right then. On the evening of October 24th, I saw you in Diagon Alley in front of the Quidditch shop around 7 pm. As I can testify to your whereabouts at that time, please, relay the events from that point on until you were arrested a quarter before nine."

Keeping his voice free of malice and condescension as she had instructed him, he told the Wizengamot how he had indeed seen Hermione outside of the Quidditch shop at the time stated. After their brief exchange, he then proceeded into the shop where he talked to Mr. Morgan, the manager, for about 45 minutes concerning a special order he had inquired about weeks prior. What should have only taken, at most, 10 minutes, turned into 45 because Mr. Morgan needed to send owls to the various manufacturers and wait for replies.

"So, it's safe to say that you were with someone for the entire 45 minutes? You were never left alone at any time," she questioned while pacing slightly in front of the platform.

"That's correct. Mr. Morgan served tea and cakes and stayed for the entire duration. He wanted to be sure I was well taken care of since I am a frequent and devoted patron of his shop." She nodded and motioned for him to continue. "After I left the company of Mr. Morgan, I ran into Severus Snape, a family friend, and we went to get a drink at the Leaky Cauldron. We sat talking for, I'd say, around 20 or so minutes before Tom joined the conversation briefly to ask about the score of Saturday's Quidditch match."

He also said that a few fellows walked past that he knew from Hogwarts and that he engaged them in conversation. After checking the time, he had realized he was late for a meeting with his father. His father had requested a meeting at nine that evening, but, as a rule of thumb, he liked to arrive 30 minutes ahead of schedule.

"Can you describe the scene from when you arrived," she asked.

His face grew grim. "I Apparated beyond the fence since there are wards protecting the manor—like at Hogwarts—I walked through the front door, and there on the hall floor lay my father. He wasn't moving. When I bent to him, he still felt warm and I thought at first that he was knocked out and I tried a few spells to revive him," his eyes became unfocused at the memory, "but he wouldn't wake up. I grabbed his wrist to check for a pulse, but there was none… I don't remember much after that—I must have gone into shock. The next thing I remember is an Auror storming into the foyer saying that I was under arrest."

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. Those are the only questions I have for you at this time," she said, taking a seat behind her table awaiting the Wizengamot.

They were quiet for several moments, the scratching of quills against parchment the only thing breaking the overwhelming silence of the room.

Fudge turned to the court guard. "You can now send in the press and other onlookers. Allow no one in from the witness list." The guard disappeared behind the doors and returned with a mass of people.

She recognized several people from the Order along with a few members of the press, who had interviewed her months earlier at the conclusion of the war, including Rita Skeeter.

Another person she recognized immediately was Narcissa Malfoy, who sat stiffly on the bench. Silent tears were running down her cheeks, and, beside her offering comfort, was Molly Weasley. This would seem strange to any passerby, but, if they knew Molly, they would realize that it wasn't such a surprising occurrence. Both Narcissa and Molly knew one another from their days at Hogwarts, and, even though tomorrow may find them again polite strangers, today they were united by the love a mother has for their child.

Fudge called down to her. "Miss Granger, are you ready to call your first witness?"

"Yes, sir. I'd like to call Harry Potter to the courtroom."


	3. Mission Accomplished

The naming of her first witness caused unrest in the spectator area. Whispering voices filled the silence, photographers grappled with their cameras, and several members of the press pushed rudely out of their seats to get in position by the double doors.

The doors opened to expose Harry Potter. The room grew eerily silent as he moved to sit in the witness box. Malfoy looked on stoically.

Rolling her eyes, she smiled at Harry. "Can you please state your name for the record?"

"Harry James Potter." He focused on the question asked and not on the people gawking at him.

"Thank you, and do you understand why you have been asked here today?" He nodded. "How long have you known the defendant?"

"Since I was 11…so about 10 years."

"Do you like Draco Malfoy?"

"Not at all. You could say that he and I were rivals at Hogwarts."

A voice emerged from the shadows of the second row of the Wizengamot. "I'm sorry, but what does this have to do with anything?" It was a high-pitched voice. It was one Hermione had never wanted to hear again.

She slowly turned to face Delores Umbridge. "I was first establishing the relationship between the two before moving on to my other questions concerning the murder."

Umbridge opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by another witch belonging to the Wizengamot. "Delores, I believe it would be best to let Miss Granger continue," Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, said sternly.

Umbridge returned to the shadows with a sour look on her amphibian-like face.

Sparing not a glance in the direction of that horrible woman, she continued. "Mr. Potter, where were you on the 24th of October around 7 in the evening?"

"My friend, Ron Weasley, and I decided to go to Diagon Alley that day. We were there from just before 7 until 9."

"Did you see Mr. Malfoy there at all?"

"Yes, we ran into him at the Leaky Cauldron just before half past eight. As we were leaving, we passed his table. We were stopped because Malfoy wanted to…chat for a bit."

"And you know for a fact that it was just before 8:30?" At his answer in the affirmative, "How?"

"About 10 minutes into the conversation, Malfoy grabbed my wrist to look at my watch. He said that he was late for a meeting with his father that he was supposed to be there at 8:30. When I looked at my watch, it read 8:35."

Grabbing a scroll from her table for reference, "The Ministry Healers reported that Lucius Malfoy was killed at 8:30 that evening. Do you think it is at all possible for the defendant to have slipped away to murder his father at that time?"

"No, I don't. Ron, Snape, and I were with him at that time, and he never left."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter, you may step down and take a seat." She looked Harry in the eye and nodded slightly. _Everything was going as planned. _

She and Harry had supposed that the real killer would attend the trial to make sure Malfoy was put away. She needed to continue asking questions in the hopes that someone would make a slip. All she had to do was bide her time until that happened.

She glanced briefly at Malfoy to gauge his reaction to Harry's testimony. His eyes followed Harry as he sat next to Ron in the spectator area. _Trying to find an ulterior motive, _she supposed.

"Miss Granger, please call your next witness," intoned Fudge.

"I would like to call Auror Keslick to the stand."

Escorted in by the guard was a short man. He seemed to be a bundle of nerves. His eyes darted back and forth across the room as if looking for possible threats. He was young. She would guess mid to late 20s). He must have seen many awful things in his short career to be so…twitchy.

After he stated his name, she asked how long he had been an Auror. He replied that it would be two years this coming February.

"You were first on the scene, is that correct?" He replied in the affirmative. "What did you see when you arrived at the Manor?"

"W-well, the front door was open. When I walked in, the defendant was standing over the body with his wand drawn. I ordered him to roll his wand to me, but he didn't move, so I had to disarm him. I then arrested him."

"Did you see anyone else at the scene—possibly leaving the manor?"

"No, miss. It was just the two Malfoy's that were present."

"Do you believe Draco Malfoy killed his father?" she looked him steadily in the eye, but he looked away after a short moment.

Hesitating slightly, "Yes, I do."

Something wasn't quite right here, that much she knew. Something was bothering her.

"When did you arrive at the manor?"

"It was some time around nine, I suppose." _That couldn't be right_.

She walked quickly to retrieve another parchment from her bag. "According to this, Mr. Keslick, you signed the defendant into Azkaban at nine. Aurors are not allowed to Apparate with prisoners in tow; they always carry an emergency Portkey for such situations, and, even then, you would be deposited 100 yards back from the prison outside the gates. How is it possible that you arrived so quickly at the prison?"

Again his eyes darted back and forth to faces behind her. "I may—I must have arrived sooner at the manor than originally thought."

She narrowed her eyes. _What are you hiding Keslick? _She looked to Malfoy. He had remained quiet through all of this as per her instructions. She was surprised he was following orders. He raised a brow at her; it clearly asked 'What next?'

_OK, think, Hermione. Malfoy was elsewhere at the time of the murder. He didn't see anyone when he arrived nor did Keslick. The killer had less than 5 minutes to leave before Draco arrived. You can't Apparate from inside the manor, the person would have to make it outside the entrance gates before able, but Malfoy would have surely noticed someone running towards him. The timeline just didn't add up. Malfoy's story was corroborated, but Keslick's…_

As she was pacing in front of the witness stand, she looked up to search for Harry and Ron only to catch a glimpse at Rita Skeeter. That's when a thought struck her.

She turned quickly to the Wizengamot. "I'd like request a copy of the Animagus Registry."

Fudge looked askance at the witch to his left who nodded. "I suppose that can be arranged if you feel it is imperative." ("I do, sir.") "Very well…Watkins, please fetch the registry."

A wizard seated at the end of the row stood and left quickly. The onlookers began to whisper in excitement. It took a few minutes, but Watkins finally returned with a heavy tome placing it on her table.

She sat down and frantically began searching through the book. _One thing she knew about the Animagus Registry: it was charmed to list and re-arrange the names alphabetically with every new addition. Let me be right, let me be right, let me be right._ She flipped to the correct section. Scanning the page, she finally found what she was looking for. She grabbed her quill and made a notation at the bottom of a spare parchment. She tore off the corner with the written information and crumbled it in her hand. She then shut the book and stood.

She moved to the platform where Draco stood eyeing her curiously. "I know this may be too much to ask, but do you remember seeing anything out of the ordinary when you arrived at the manor? Something out of place, not belonging, like an animal, perhaps? Please, think carefully."

"More out of the ordinary than my father lying dead in the foyer? No, not really." She deflated at that. She began to turn away but he spoke again. "Although…there was something…" She could tell he wasn't really there. He was far away back at the Manor on that night almost 3 weeks ago. "I did see a rather large spider. It was crawling across my father's chest. I brushed it away when trying to listen for a heartbeat."

"A large spider? Did you happen to see where it went?"

"I brushed it towards the open door, so I guess it went outside."

She smiled brightly. "Thank you." Turning back to her current witness. "Now, Auror Keslick, you've already stated that you saw no one leave the house, is that correct?" He nodded jerkily. "Since it was less than 5 minutes from when Lucius Malfoy was murdered and the defendant arrived, we can safely assume that the killer had not the time to escape and that he was still there when the defendant arrived. Although the defendant testified to seeing no person other than his father, he has just said that he saw a large spider." Larges pearls of sweat were running down Keslick's forehead.

Again, the high-pitched voice interrupted from the Wizengamot, "Do you expect us to let you badger a witness because the defendant said he saw a _spider_? I think it's obvious we have the correct man in custody. We need to bring this hearing to a close now and sentence the prisoner. This is taking up too much time." Hermione rolled her eyes. _Shut it, you old hag._

Umbridge spluttered in outrage. Hermione paled. She had a feeling she had spoken her thoughts aloud again.

"Why you—" Umbridge began, but was interrupted by McGonagall for the second time. "Delores, I think you misheard the girl. There's no reason to get angry. She merely said that she forgot to shut her bag. Isn't that what you heard, Phineas?" turning to an aged wizard to her right.

"Why, yes, I did hear that," Phineas looked absolutely delighted. Whether it was because he was being asked his opinion or because of her slip, she wasn't sure.

Playing along, she walked to her table to close the flap on her bag. She looked up into the confused crowd. _They didn't hear me_. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Fudge spoke up then, "You can continue, Miss Granger. Please excuse the interruption," sending a disapproving look to the second row.

Hermione looked to the witness box where Keslick was shifting in his seat. Every few seconds he would cast glances to the double doors. "Don't worry, I only have a few questions more for you." He nodded.

"Are you an Animagus?" He jumped slightly at that. He looked toward the Registry on her table.

"Yes, miss," he croaked.

"And can you please tell us what form you take when you transform?" She motioned discreetly to the court guards. They nodded and took out their wands. She was cornering him and she didn't want to take any chances.

When Keslick began stuttering, she asked, "Isn't it true that you transform into a tarantula?" He looked wildly about the room. "The tarantula is a large breed of spider, so, when the defendant said he saw a large spider on his father's chest—that was you. This means that you were there before the defendant. This also means that you would have been there to witness the murder, but you arrested Draco Malfoy, the one person we know couldn't have done it." She paused. "Why did you kill Lucius Malfoy, Keslick?"

That spurred him into action. He quickly jumped out of the box and was halfway to the door before he was knocked unconscious.

The next moments were a blur as Fudge dismissed all charges against Malfoy. Everyone began to talk at once, and the press swarmed vying for her attention.

She looked to where Malfoy was being released. He met her eyes and nodded solemnly in thanks. Harry and Ron pushed their way through everyone to get to her. They greeted her with large grins. She couldn't wait to leave, so she gave a brief statement to the reporters, posed for a few photos, and went to pack her things.

Harry nudged her and nodded indicating Malfoy. He was walking to meet his mother. For a few seconds, both mother and child stood staring at one another until Narcissa raised her arms tentatively and wrapped Draco in a hug. He sagged into her embrace and his shoulders began to lightly shake.

"He's crying," Ron announced tactlessly while staring openly. _Oh, honestly!_

When she reached down to pick up her bag, she accidentally on purpose elbowed him in the ribs. He grunted. "Serves you right," she said while Harry laughed.

"I think it's time we leave." And with that, the trio walked out the door. _Mission accomplished._


	4. The Morning Paper

_A month later_

_Ministry Official Charged in Death Eater Killing Spree_

_On Monday, November 30__th__, Delores Umbridge, former Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, was arrested when certain evidence came to light implicating the witch in several Death Eater slayings. Umbridge reportedly had her accomplice, Auror Randell Keslick, stalk and kill Death Eaters under investigation by the Ministry. There have been two confirmed cases: one being the well-known October death of Lucius Malfoy. Countless others are being re-investigated at this time…_

Hermione was sitting in the small kitchen of her one-bedroom flat reading this morning's paper. It was a rather surprising article, but she wasn't surprised at all. In fact, she and the Order were responsible for the arrest. Why else would she volunteer to defend Malfoy? She had prior knowledge that Malfoy was innocent before taking the case. Sometimes she pondered whether she would have taken the case had she not known. Suffice it to say that she didn't think too hard; she had a feeling she wouldn't like the answer.

She had seen him a few times since the trial. It was just two weeks ago when she had seen him at a restaurant. He was obviously on a date, and he was smiling and laughing. It was strange to see something other than sneering disgust on his face. She had been intrigued because she had never known that particular Draco Malfoy. She had ended up sneaking glances at him throughout the entire meal until he had escorted his date out into the night. And when she had run into him outside of Flourish & Blotts, he was civil and polite. Even more, he smiled at her briefly. She blushed just thinking about it.

It was ridiculous to be acting this way. She was too old to have some silly school girl crush. He was the school bully who teased her and called her names. He wasn't allowed to suddenly mature and become attractive! It was definitely one of the many unfair things in this world.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the front door. Putting the paper aside, she stood and moved to the door. Looking through the peephole, she received a shock. There on the other side was Draco Malfoy. _Someone read the paper this morning._

Looking quickly in the hall mirror, she checked her appearance…and then laughed at herself. "What are you doing, Hermione?" She opened the door.

"Well, this is a surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit," she greeted dryly. She noticed he was holding the Daily Prophet at his side.

"Granger," he nodded by way of greeting, "I had a few questions I needed answered, and figured you were the witch to ask." He held up the paper.

"You might as well come in," she said as she stepped back to let him enter.

He walked into her flat looking at his surroundings. Hermione wasn't much of an interior decorator, but she knew what she liked. The small room was filled with plush furniture, a few reading lamps strategically placed to offer optimum reading light, and bookshelves. She had a small space of wall not covered by her many bookshelves that allowed her to display personal photographs. It wasn't much, but it was hers. And she loved it.

She walked back into her kitchen and motioned for him to take a seat at the table. "Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?"

She was glad by his continued civil behavior. Now that she'd had a glimpse at this side of him, she could honestly say that she would be disappointed if he reverted back to his old self.

"No, thank you. Just answers. Did you know about this?" He pointed to the front page depicting an enraged Umbridge being pulled away by Aurors.

She debated on whether to play dumb, but opted for a half-truth. "I knew she was going to be arrested before the article was written, yes."

He eyed her suspiciously. "Rita Skeeter wrote this. You have her in your pocket because of that thing back in fourth year. Are you saying you didn't _give_ her this story?"

"Look, I know you want answers, but I'm not at liberty to say anything. The best I can do is to request a meeting. As an officer of the Order, you know that I cannot divulge inside information."

By the tightening of his mouth, she could tell that he was becoming annoyed. "So, this _is_ the Order's work. I was a member of the Order, I should have known. I have a feeling there's more to this than Umbridge's arrest."

His unflinching gaze was beginning to disconcert her, but she didn't say anything to deny or confirm his suspicions.

He sighed. "Fine. I'll wait until that meeting. I do plan on getting answers. I'll concede that you don't have the authority, though. I've waited this long, what's another week." He gave her an assessing look and smirked. "I'll take that tea now."

She was surprised at that. She hadn't expected him to stay, but she made him a cup and set it before him. She gave him a questioning look. "Was there something else?"

"Am I not allowed to have tea with you, Granger? Oh wait, as a mature adult, I should say 'Hermione', right? So, _Hermione_, am I not allowed to have tea with you?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You are certainly allowed to, but I never thought that you would choose to do so."

"Now, why would you say that?" She gave him a look. He smirked again. "Let's just say that after you saved me from the bowels of Azkaban, I've decided you're not so…horrible."_ Take it easy with those compliments, Malfoy, don't get too carried away._

She rolled her eyes. "I have yet to come to that conclusion about you." _Liar, Liar. _ She had the sudden urge to stick her tongue out at him.

"Well, I suppose I'll have to stick around until you make up your mind, now won't I?" He winked before taking a sip of his tea. _Malfoy just winked at me._ She looked away as she felt a blush come to her cheeks.

"I will admit that I much prefer having a civil conversation with you than arguing with you, but I didn't assume that we were suddenly friends." She remained composed on the outside, but she couldn't help wondering what it would be like to be friends with Draco Malfoy. She knew that he was intelligent, charming, confident, and arrogant…among other things. Her interest was definitely piqued, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing it. _It would just be something else to additionally inflate his overly large ego_.

"Of course not, since you were probably forced into defending me in court—why assume we were friends, indeed." There was no malice, it was just a statement. _Both intelligent and direct_. She appreciated that.

"Actually, I did volunteer." She looked him straight in the eye. "On principle, I prefer to tell the truth."

He nodded. "I'll be sure to extend to you the same courtesy." He looked at the clock on the wall. "I suppose I shall go. I'm sure you have other things to do today."

They both stood. He began walking out of the kitchen, but hesitated, "The 'old hag' bit was very entertaining. I was almost tempted to laugh." He turned to send her a grin. "I didn't realize you had it in you, Granger."

She groaned. "Didn't you say you were leaving?"

He laughed at that. He continued to the front door. He opened it, but didn't step out. Clearing his throat, "I never did properly thank you for what you did, voluntary or not, thanks…" And then he stepped through and shut the door behind him leaving a mystified Hermione gawking after him.


	5. Time Spent Together

The next day had started normally, but it hadn't ended that way. Draco had shown up on her doorstep that afternoon. "I have to make sure you keep your promise, Granger," he says. He sauntered right in and plopped himself on her favorite overstuffed armchair, picked up the book she had been reading, and made himself comfortable.

In an effort to appease Malfoy into leaving—and into surrendering her book!—she had sent her owl, Athena, to Harry requesting that meeting with the Order, but to no avail. "I'll wait for the reply…I can't leave now, anyway, I'm in the middle of a good chapter," he replies. She sat waiting on her sofa drumming her fingers glowering at Malfoy who was reading _her_ book and sitting in _her _chair. _Help a guy out of prison and he steals your things_, she thought darkly.

He eventually put the book aside with a sigh. "I can't read with your eyes boring a hole through my head. Let's get some dinner," he said. Then he walked over to her and grasped her arm to pull her from the sofa gently. He grabbed her cloak and tossed it back to her as he pulled her past the coat rack and through the door. She was too surprised to protest and barely had the presence of mind to lock her door.

That's how she found herself to be sitting at a table across from Malfoy in a small bistro down the way from her flat. And, to her secret delight, they were getting on famously. They had chatted amiably all through dinner, managing to avoid sensitive subjects. It was frustrating when she only received polite smiles in return throughout the meal. He seemed to be in perfect control of his emotions; he gave nothing away. At times, he even looked bored. Although, the amused grey eyes staring back at her proved that he was anything but bored. She still longed for another reaction, so she had taken on the challenge of getting him to laugh. He proved to be a worthy adversary, for not one emotion flickered from behind his mask of self-control.

Malfoy was currently enjoying his after-dinner coffee while she sat back merely enjoying the company. "They have great coffee here. I like to come here at least twice a week. Anything less than that and I start going through withdrawal. Have you ever tasted of their coffee?" At her answer in the negative, he said, "You have to have a sip, Granger. It will be better than any other coffee you've had." He handed her his cup. She took it, dumbstruck. When she didn't immediately drink from the cup, he said, "Sometime today, Granger. And don't drink all of it! I want my coffee back."

She gaped at him. He was going to let her sip from his cup, a cup that he fully intended to drink from afterward. Hell had officially iced over.

At his expectant look, she took a hesitant sip. "You're right, this is delicious coffee." He smiled approvingly and took back his coffee.

"You'll have to get your own if you want more. This cup is taken." His eyes twinkled over the rim as he savored the coffee.

"So, I'm curious. How did you know where I lived? What's more, why did you think to come to me in the first place?" She had been dying to ask, and what better time when he was obviously in a good mood.

He gazed at her steadily. "Dobby was very helpful when I asked him where you lived…No, no, don't get upset. I don't find it sporting to beat house elves like my father. We just talked." She visibly relaxed. He looked amused at that but continued. "In answer to your second question…well, you let something slip in court." He smirked at her.

"Oh, do tell. What exactly did I let slip?"

"Well, Miss Granger, it was when you were questioning Keslick that it became evident. Do you remember your first question?"

"The bit where I asked if you understood the charges?" she teased.

He smiled. "No. You asked me to relate the events of the night from when you saw me until I was arrested at a quarter before nine. That was the slip, although I didn't know it at the time. It became obvious when you asked Keslick at what time he arrived to make the arrest. He said nine, and you immediately knew that he was lying. The only reason to possibly explain that is if you had prior knowledge indicating otherwise." She had paled at his last statement. "I wouldn't worry too much. It wasn't a big slip. It's doubtful anyone else caught it."_ Like that made her feel any better._

"He said _around_ nine. A quarter to nine can be considered _around_ nine," she protested.

"Then why did the answer affect you the way it did?" When she looked ready to protest again, he held up his palm. "You're damned intelligent, Granger, but you're not perfect. Everyone makes mistakes. Merlin knows that I've made my fair share. Let's not dwell on the past."

She was too lost in her own thoughts to even take notice of his last statement. Or the significance of it.

Avoiding his eyes, she sat gazing at a point over his left shoulder. After a few minutes, she spoke quietly. "Athena should have returned with a reply by now." He took the hint and motioned for the waiter. Paying the bill, they both stood to make their way back to her flat.

Athena was indeed there waiting when they walked through the door. She walked to Athena to untie the letter from her leg and then gave her a few treats. Athena grasped them in her beak happily and retreated to her cage to rest.

She quickly skimmed the note. "He's managed to schedule a meeting on Saturday."

Malfoy, who was leaning against her writing desk, sighed. "So, five days then? Lovely." Straightening, he made his way to the door. "Same time tomorrow, Granger?"

Malfoy was full of surprises. She couldn't think of anything to say, so she settled with an intelligent "What?"

"Today was fun and I think we should do it all over again tomorrow," he answered while grinning cheekily. "Is it so hard to believe that I would want to spend time with you?"

That required no thought. "Yes."

He laughed merrily. "I'll see you tomorrow, Hermione." And then the front door was shut behind him.

"At least I made him laugh." She said to no one. She fell asleep that night with a smile on her face.

The rest of the week proceeded in the same fashion with the exception that she took to answering the door with her wand all the while sitting firmly in her armchair and clasping her current read. _Never say that she can't learn from her mistakes. _He acknowledged the change with no more than a quirked brow, and took the sofa without argument.

Draco would come by midmorning and they would both read until the sounds of hunger emitting from their stomachs could no longer be ignored. They chose only the eateries in close walking distance. It was cold out, but, despite the cold, they preferred to walk. She enjoyed their walking time. It prolonged their time together, and she found she liked spending time with him. She wasn't sure if he felt the same way, but he kept coming back day after day.

She hadn't realized she would feel this comfortable around him when he wasn't being such a git. It had never occurred to her in the least. Sure, he had made the choice to join the Order, but there still existed animosity between them. Not so much on her side as it was on his. They never argued because they hardly ever spoke to one another, but he never had anything nice to say. He obviously didn't give much credit to "If you haven't anything nice to say, don't say anything at all". Regardless, she thought he was hot…well, with one exception. As superficial as it made her seem, she found him attractive as long as he didn't speak.

When the war had ended and they had all gone their separate ways, she didn't think she would ever have cause to meet him again. After spending the past few days with him, she was glad that she was wrong. She could now say that he was attractive even while he was speaking.

They were reading in her living room on Friday, when he asked, "So, how did you like the past week? Did you enjoy yourself?"

She rested her book in her lap and looked at him thoughtfully. "As surprising as it is, I really did."

"Why is that surprising?" he smirked. "I'm not entirely bad. You have to admit, I've been on my best behavior."

She smiled slightly. "Yes, and that has me curious. You do realize you don't have to be nice to get information from me. I had already decided to tell you everything at the meeting." Her smile widened at his scowl. "Fine, fine! You have been pleasant to be around. You haven't even called me the "M" word."

"Granger, had you cared to notice, you would have realized I haven't called you the "M" word since we left Hogwarts. About the time I joined the Order," he replied.

She suddenly found her wood floors captivating. "Actually, I had noticed the decrease in its use, but, if you recall, you used it at the ministry a month ago." Feeling the heat of his gaze, she fidgeted slightly in her chair.

Suddenly he was standing before her chair. She hadn't heard him move, but he was there and that caused her to look up in surprise. He braced himself with a hand on either armrest and leaned down toward her. She was effectively caged. His eyes darkened with the heat of his emotions, and somewhere in the back of her mind, it occurred to her that maybe she should be afraid. She wasn't…yet.

His voice was fierce when he spoke next. "You _can't_ hold that against me. I had just spent over a week in hell. A week, Granger! Do you know how hard that was on me? And then you walk in that morning. Someone who I thought hated me, who would take great pleasure seeing me broken…Don't you understand? I had to lash out. I only had my words to defend me, but it was a mistake. I knew that the instant you started to speak. You showed me more kindness that morning than I have ever known from one person. I know I didn't deserve it, not from you." He was breathing raggedly. He looked in her eyes pleadingly. "Forgive me, Hermione."

She didn't know what to say. He had essentially just begged her for forgiveness, and she was sitting there in shocked silence. She knew he was waiting for a reaction of some kind, so she did the only thing that she could think of: she hugged him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and she hugged him. At first he froze, but then he straightened, bringing her to a standing position, and he hugged her back. It was at that moment she decided that she loved him. Never mind what that said of her, falling in love after a handful of days together, but it was fruitless to deny it. She would be lying to herself otherwise.

He abruptly dropped his hold and took a step back to distance himself. She was left off balance and fell back in her chair with a squeak. Looking at him, she saw that he had himself back under control. He was standing calmly across the room.

"As a woman, I know you are prone to over thinking situations, so I shall set the record straight. I don't love you, Granger. I merely value our newfound friendship." _Ouch._

She schooled her features to match his. She wasn't about to admit how his words had hurt her. Nor was she going to admit her feelings for him. She glanced at the clock on the wall. "I have completely lost track of time! I have a job interview this afternoon, so I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut our time short today."

She walked briskly to the door, picked up his cloak, held it out and opened the door in anticipation of his immediate departure. She needed time to think and she couldn't very well do it while he was under foot.

He ran his hand through his hair in agitation. "Granger—" he began, but she just shook his cloak at him. He sighed and walked slowly to the door. He was searching her face, but she was careful not to betray any emotion. He took his cloak and walked out the door without a backward glance.

She closed the door, and stumbled to the sofa before her legs fully gave out on her. Her cranky cat, sensing its owner's distress, hopped onto her lap to purr affectionately, butting his head against her hand.

"You would think I had learned my lesson about falling for emotionally unavailable men back in sixth year, but, oh no, the king of all emotionally unavailable men prances into my life and I fall hard. Not the school-girl type of love I felt for Ron. No, this is the I-can-spend-every-waking-moment-in-your-presence-and-never-tire-of-you type of love. This was the real thing…at least I thought it was." She sniffed. Her throat was aching with the effort not to cry. She would remain strong, and not dissolve into tears of self-pity.

She took deep calming breaths. She finally relaxed against the back cushions. She looked at Crookshanks. "I value my friendship with him as well, but, considering my feelings for him…and his non-feelings for me, maybe we shouldn't be friends. What do you think, my love?" He meowed loudly. She smiled lovingly while stroking his ears. "I think you're right. Why deprive myself of his company? If he can remain detached and aloof, so can I."

The next morning she sent Athena to Malfoy with a note indicating that he should meet at her flat, and that they would both proceed to the meeting from here. Ten minutes later, there was a knock on her door. She winked at Crookshanks who was lying near her armchair swishing his tail lazily.

She opened the door to reveal Malfoy. "Let me just get my cloak and we can leave." Grabbing her garment, she walked through the threshold and locked her door. She finally looked at him. "Ready?" He looked absolutely baffled. She turned before smiling in amusement. _This was going to be fun._

They arrived ahead of the scheduled time. Thinking of the address, the house appeared in front of them.

She could see him glance at her before looking away. "I thought you were mad at me. I figured I would just meet you here for the meeting."

"Draco, this is Harry's house. Do you really think you're still able to get in?" she said dryly.

He frowned but didn't reply.

When they entered, she was greeted by Ron, Harry, Ginny and the twins.

"Aww, look what followed Hermione home," said George, grinning.

"Malfoy, we have to show you our new invention," said Fred. Each twin took an arm and dragged him upstairs.

Against all odds the twins and Malfoy had become good friends during the war. She had a feeling the twins befriended him because they had wanted to annoy Ron, which it did successfully.

"I can't believe you're friends with him, Hermione." Ron looked bewildered.

"I can! He'shot," exclaimed Ginny, giving Hermione a thumbs-up.

Ron cried out in alarm. "Ginny! Don't make me lose my breakfast!" He clutched his stomach.

Grinning, Harry punched Ron's arm playfully. "You can trust Hermione. She knows what she's doing," then he winked at her, "Just don't expect us to like him."

She laughed and pulled them into a group hug. Stepping back, she asked, "When does the meeting start?"

"We're the only Order members attending. It wasn't high priority enough for more members to attend."

Hermione looked at her friends. "Well, let's get started, then. We might as well get this over with."

IIIIIIIIIIIII

So sorryy...I got completely caught up with the battle for Western Conference; I had to support my Spurs...


	6. The Order Meeting Part 1

Ginny went upstairs to retrieve her brothers and Malfoy while she followed the others to the drawing room of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. She settled herself into a wingback chair near the fireplace where Harry decided to stand. Ron sat on a foot stool on the other side of the fireplace leaving the sofa open for the rest of the attendees.

She watched silently as the three Weasleys and Malfoy strode in the room with the red heads taking seats on the sofa. Malfoy looked briefly at her before settling on the sofa's matching ottoman. She made certain that her expression was unreadable and took a calming breath. _ And here we go…_

Harry cleared his throat to catch the attention of the others. She had decided it was best that he took charge of the meeting business this morning. "So, as you all may know, we've called this small meeting of the Order to inform Malfoy about the goings on at the Ministry…well, about the things we've learned so far…" Harry turned to retrieve a stack of parchment from the fireplace mantel and walked to hand them to Malfoy. "These are messages the Order intercepted inside the Ministry office. At the time, we didn't know who they were meant for since they were just left in the Auror office, but it's quite clear who they're from."

She watched as Malfoy glanced at the pink parchments and the feminine, curly handwriting she remembered to be written on the pages. The messages each only contained one name. At the bottom, D. Umbridge was signed with a flourish. _Old frog-faced hag._

Harry continued, "Our Order member inside the Ministry witnessed Umbridge personally delivering these messages to the Auror office. Specifically to an old file room in the Auror office that no one ever used. Considering how suspicious it was for Umbridge to be delivering her own messages, the Order member waited outside the room for the rest of the day trying to discover the intended recipient, but no one ever showed. When most of the Aurors had left for the day, he went in to retrieve the message to find that it had already been opened and left in the trash bin."

She looked to Malfoy and related more of the tale. "We didn't think it likely Umbridge would carry her missives three floors down and into an unused file room to then tear it open and leave it in the bin. Over the next week, two more messages were found in the same state—torn open and left for trash collection. Our guy inside only ever witnessed Umbridge entering the room and, since you can't Apparate or Disapparate inside the Ministry office, we were stumped as to who was reading them."

Malfoy fit the pieces together. "Keslick's animagus form. He made his way into the file room as a spider, read the messages, and left as a spider." She knew he was fairly intelligent from having worked with him during the last bits of the war and their reasons for not informing him when all this secret message business came about was becoming unclear.

Ron snorted. "Yeah, easy to figure out _now _with all that's happened, but we had a hell of a time with this _especially_ when we figured out what the messages truly were." Ron glowered sourly at Malfoy. She guessed he wasn't over the fact that his sister thought Malfoy was hot. She smiled slightly at that.

When she caught Malfoy looking at her, she resumed a more serious face. She never found it especially difficult to keep her emotions under the surface. Years of dealing with Harry and Ron at various ages helped with that; boys occasionally have a habit of saying insensitive things. It was useless to make a big deal out of all of them when often times they had no clue why it was upsetting in the first place.

She returned her thoughts to the meeting to find Malfoy's brow furrowed in thought. "Why didn't the idiot just burn the messages, make them disappear, dispose of them in _some_ way? Why leave them in with the rubbish? Seems like he _wanted _someone to find them."

Harry fielded that question. "He's young. He hadn't been an Auror for that long. Both ignorance and arrogance on his part."

"You should know all about those things, Malfoy." Ron sat back with a self-satisfied look at his own genius. She looked at him incredulously. _Oh, Ron, it wasn't that good._

Malfoy shot him a scathing look before prompting, "So, you said you found out what the messages were…" She was glad to see there was another person in the room who was able to refrain from reverting to teenage taunts. Great, one more thing she could add to the growing list of good qualities he possessed. If she wasn't careful, she was going to lose her reservations and get all gooey-eyed over him. _Oh, Merlin. _Then he'd _really_ know how much she cared. At that thought, she gave herself a mental slap. _Get a hold of yourself!_

Snapping her attention back to the conversation, she heard Harry saying, "We had the messages, but didn't know what to do with them. All the names were Death Eaters under investigation—that much we knew. When the wizard who was named in the first message turned up dead along with the wizard who was mentioned second, we knew the messages were a kill order. We knew we had to act fast to protect the third wizard." Harry ran his hands through his hair in frustration. She didn't blame him; they had arrived at the difficult part of the meeting.

She glanced at Malfoy to see his face grow grim. Malfoy took a guess, "My father was named third…" Which would have been a correct assumption given the events of a month ago, but…

She shifted in her seat uncomfortably and looked between Harry and Ron for support. "Actually, Malfoy, your name was on the third message."


End file.
